


our wills and fates do so contrary run

by eyesonly



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: A little, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Javid is JJ and Ben, M/M, Sickfic, Sprace is whoever you want bbs, boys are dumb and don't know how to communicate, davey is a walking disaster, hopeless davey, mentions of newsbians, smooth jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 16:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15644880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonly/pseuds/eyesonly
Summary: Davey Jacobs hated the idea of soulmates and hated the name on his arm. That's why he knows he's going to shove it to fate and find love on his own terms. Naturally, it can never be that simple.---Soulmate!AU where your soulmates name appears somewhere on your body.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boyyyy. Here I am crashing into another fandom head first. So this is my first Newsies fic. Please blame @safarikalamari for every ounce of this, for her Newsies obsession has rubbed off onto me and I can't stop thinking about these dumb boys. 
> 
> As mentioned in my tags, I'm using JJ and Ben for my Jack and Davey. However, I appreciate Max/Gabe and Ben/actual meatball Tommy Bracco as Sprace soooo which ever your ~heart desires~ is your Sprace.
> 
> There are going to be two chapters of this fic, the second chapter is already written and I'll post it tomorrow. Thank you for any kudos, comments, or bookmarks! <3

Davey Jacobs never put much thought into the whole idea of soulmates. Sure, it was helpful for some people, he found the idea just a nuisance.

It was sometime between the time he turned 12 or 13, right at the beginnings of puberty, that he noticed faint lettering forming on his upper arm at the crook of his elbow.

By the time he was nearly 15 the name was clear in a messy scrawl.

_Francis_

While his friends proudly showed off the names on their own bodies...

_Sean. Katherine. Louis. Josephina._

He opted for long shirts and avoiding the topic at all costs. He was pretty sure soulmates were a sham. A vestigial trait from times gone by. Like wisdom teeth or the appendix. It was a pointless, useless, dumb thing that was on their body by no control of their own.

His sister, Sarah, was the only person he openly confided his anxiety over the name on his arm. He was in the middle of his junior year when he finally showed her the name on his arm.

“Francis?” She scrunched up her nose, “Oh my god, your soulmate is in a little old lady!” She gasped in mock horror.

Davey rolled his eyes and pulled his sleeve back down. 

“It’s Francis, with an I. Frances with an E is a woman’s name. It’s a guy,” Davey defends, rubbing his arm.

“Okay, well I’m sure you’ll fit right in at the retirement home with him,” she teases playfully.

“And that’s why this whole soulmate thing is just ridiculous,” he grumbles, flopping back on his bed.

“What do you think he’s like, providing he isn’t a 90-year-old man in his twilight years?”

Davey shrugs rolling over to look at her.

“With a name like Francis all I can think about is an awkward, nerdy guy who has like a pocket protector and bad personal hygiene,” he groans out burying his face in his hands.

Sarah lets out a belly laugh, “With a gelled middle part and Coke bottle glasses too?”

“Yes!” Davey cries out before letting out a pitiful moan.

Sarah can’t help but lay next to him and rest her head on his shoulder. 

“He might not be that bad. You never know,” she softly offers.

Davey huffs and leans his head against her own. 

“Well, I don’t plan on ever meeting him so I don’t have to worry. I’m going to find my own partner on my own terms. And I plan on avoiding all Francises at all costs.”

He finds in the next few years that Francis isn’t a very popular name and so his life mission of avoiding all Francises goes pretty well, through not much effort put on his own part.

In his senior year of high school, he has a teacher who’s first name is Francis. In his freshman year of college, he has a classmate named Francis. When he’s 22 and starts a job at a local bookstore, his manager is named Francis. All perfectly ignorant of Davey, their paths never crossing much, and he feels like he has truly dodged the soulmate bullet.

Davey had been working at the bookstore for a little over a year, happily going into his senior year of his Bachelor’s degree in Journalism. Still no Francis. Still...no one really. Hell, he had even found his sister’s soulmate in one of his classes. Yet, he remained happily single, feeling smugly that he was able to beat fate to some degree.

It was during morning rush hour that everything changed. 

He was walking to work, headphones in, easily weaving in and out of the people crowding the sidewalks. Mid-song he gets the alert sound of a text, causing him to pull out his phone and look at the text. It was from Katherine, his roommate and his Sarah’s girlfriend/soulmate.

_Can you pick up milk when you get off work? I used the last of it this morning and I need it to make dinner. :) <3 ___

__He chuckles softly to himself, still walking as he looks down answering the text._ _

___Sure thi_ _ _

__Suddenly, there is the squealing of tires and he feels himself being pulled back by his arm and into the frame of a solid body. The earbuds falling out as he clutches his phone to his chest._ _

__“Watch where you’re going!” An angry driver yells out before speeding off._ _

__He had walked right into traffic. Well, almost walked right into traffic._ _

__Davey can only hear his heart beat thrumming in his ear as he stands frozen in place, the realization that he was almost someone’s hood ornament washing over him._ _

__“Hey, kid. Hey, y’okay? Talk to me, kid,” a voice breaks through his rapid heartbeat and he finds himself being pushed to a bench._ _

__He finally focuses on the concerned face of another man who crouches to meet his eyes. Davey manages to nod shakily, pulling the headphones out with equally tremoring hands._ _

__“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Oh my God, I almost-”_ _

__The guy softly laughs, but it comes out as a breath of relief._ _

__“Yeah, almost pulverized into a Jackson Pollock on that guy’s car. It’s a bit early for a death wish, innit?” He smiles a little teasingly._ _

__Davey scrubs his face and lets out his own breathy laugh._ _

__“I can’t believe...were you the one…?” Davey feels breathless._ _

__“You knight in shining armor, at ya service,” He tips the top of his cap with a smirk. “Ah, please just don’t go around trying to off y’self.”_ _

__Davey feels his cheeks redden and he can’t believe how much of a complete moron he’s made in front of this guy. This incredibly handsome and charming and a little bit smarmy guy._ _

__“I promise, I won’t. I was reading a text from my roommate and I just didn’t...holy shit you saved my life...I could have died,” his hands are back shaking at the thought._ _

__“Hey, y’would’ve most certainly died. But ya didn’t, and you’re okay. Just breathe, what’s y’name kid?” The man tries to placate him, sitting on the bench with him._ _

__“Davey,” he says softly looking at him._ _

__“Wish we could have met on better terms, Davey,” he chuckles holding out his hand, “I’m Jack.”_ _

__Davey takes his hand and gently shakes it, still feeling like a wet noodle._ _

__He calls into work, knowing he’ll be useless for the day. The man, Jack, still hanging around after he gets off the phone with his shift manager._ _

__“I’m sorry, you probably had something to do and I just took up your morning. I’m fine now, I’m just going to head back home,” Davey cringes at how pathetic he sounds to his own ears._ _

__Jack laughs and shakes his head._ _

__“I was just on my way to get coffee and I certainly don’t trust ya to walk unassisted today. Wouldja like to join me?” Jack offers an air of vulnerability coming off his final words._ _

__Davey grins and agrees. Fate and soulmates could suck it._ _

__It doesn’t take too long for sparks to fly between him and Jack. He gets up an extra hour early every day, meeting up with Jack to walk to get coffee and then go to work._ _

__He learns that Jack is an artist, an only child, and grew up in the foster care system. He works for a local theatre in set production but does his fair share of freelancing and personal projects. He also learns that Jack is a romantic at heart, a bit of a dreamer, and an expert in the history of the Wild West._ _

__Jack is so perfectly imperfect, Davey almost can’t stand how head over heels he is for the guy._ _

__Jack also never talks about soulmates with him and he couldn’t be more thankful. Two months after Jack’s heroic rescue, they unofficially decide they’re together._ _

__No grand gestures were ever made. Davey just found himself staying over more at Jack’s place. Cuddles turn to kisses. Next thing he knows, Jack clears out two drawers in his dresser for Davey so he can keep some of his clothes over at his place._ _

__Davey is also thankful that Jack gets along great with his sister and Katherine. Soon, Jack’s friends become his friends and his friends become Jack’s. He isn’t surprised when his friend Race and Jack’s friend Spot both indulge in their soulmate’s names after a few weeks on a drunken night out._ _

__“You’re not my soulmate, Conlon,” Race slurs out despite being held in the arms of the other man._ _

__Race and Spot had become a bit inseparable despite constant teasing and insults thrown at each other. They were both loud sources of near brutish energy that somehow complimented and brought out the softer sides of both men._ _

__“You don’t know that, if you just told me the name-” Spot reasons, his lips against his neck._ _

__“Well, it sure ain’t Spot,” Race giggles out._ _

__Davey rolls his eyes, Jack’s arm wrapped around his thin waist. He takes a sip of his drink as Spot scoffs._ _

__“Well, good thing my name ain’t Spot, sweetheart.” he hums as he lifts his head up with a pleased grin._ _

__Race narrows his eyes and turns so he’s straddling Spot’s lap facing toward him._ _

__“Whatsit then? Spotty? Are ya secretly Scott?” Race playfully slurs then mock gasps, slapping his chest, “Don’t tell me ya Maurice or something!”_ _

__Spot lets out a pleased laugh which seems almost foreign against his usually hard demeanor._ _

__“It’s Sean. Sean Conlon.”_ _

__Davey freezes and Jack feels him stiffen, right about the same time, Race jumps off Spot’s lap._ _

__“You fuckin’ saw it and you’re fuckin’ with me, you don’t have to be a dick, Conlon!” Race cries out shoving his shoulders._ _

__Davey and Jack both shoot up and rush to their respective friends who are now at each other’s throats, curses flying wildly._ _

__“Race, stop you’re going to get us thrown out!” Davey growls out pushing him away from Jack and Spot. Race now fighting futilely against the larger Davey._ _

__Poor Spot in drunken confusion, wanting to fight back, but genuinely baffled by the outburst. Pulling up his own shirt trying to show the name on his chest to Jack._ _

__“You need to calm the hell down, Higgins,” Davey pushes against him, his voice deepening in authority._ _

__“He’s fuckin’ with me! Brooklyn bastard thinks this is a game!” Race drunkenly yells over Davey’s larger frame._ _

__Davey grips his chin making him focus on him. Race’s eyes glazed and wild, blinking a few times at Davey in silence._ _

__“Or maybe, just maybe, his name is Sean? Think Race, you’re talking with tequila, not your brain!” Davey his voice rises in exasperation as he cuffs Race on the back of the head._ _

__Race’s shoulders drop a little, a moment of clarity coming over him as Jack hesitantly approaches._ _

__“Race, buddy, I’ve known Spot for years. He’s Sean, his ma named him and all. He wants to know if you’re Antonio,” he asks carefully, partially hiding behind Davey in case of Race exploding again._ _

__Davey finds himself pushed to the side as Race dramatically pulls Spot into his arms. The two now a mess of tears and kisses, undoubtedly fueled by the copious amounts of liquor shared between the two._ _

__Davey sighs and rubs his forehead as, Jack blinks looking around at the now very drunken make-up between the two._ _

__“There ain’t enough alcohol in the whole world for me to deal with these two,” Jack shakes his head._ _

__Davey snorts out a laugh._ _

__“I think we deserve another beer, then we can take these assholes home,” Davey offers, as Jack leans over kissing him._ _

__“I think we’s deserve anotha beer, and maybe a shot of whiskey or two,” He playfully mumbles against Davey’s lips._ _

__Even after the Spot and Race almost-fiasco, Jack never brings up soulmates or the names tattooed on each other’s bodies._ _

__They date for nearly a year, no mentions of names or soulmates ever crosses their lips. Jack never pushes when Davey makes an excuse for wearing longer sleeves, even in the heat of summer._ _

__He doesn’t want to know the name on Jack’s body. He tells himself that constantly._ _

__When he does accidentally see the name it’s embarrassingly during a quickie before work._ _

__He has exactly fifteen minutes before he needs to be out the door when a morning makeout turns into more. Before he knows it he’s on his knees taking Jack into his mouth. Jack’s hand is gripped into his hair as he works his mouth over his cock._ _

__It isn’t until he’s pulling himself off Jack when he sees the dark writing hidden on Jack’s hip._ _

___David_ _ _

__He feels himself shaking as he hurriedly gets up and rushes to the bathroom, avoiding Jack’s worried looks._ _

__“Dave, y’okay?”_ _

__“Yeah, just gotta get ready. Only have five minutes,” he hollers out as he tries to calm his breathing as he clutches the bathroom sink._ _

__He knows he doesn’t put much stock in soulmates and their marks, but it kills him that Jack must think Davey is his soulmate._ _

__But Jack’s name is nowhere on his body and it crushes him harder than he ever anticipated._ _

__Somewhere was Jack’s real David and he suddenly felt like an imposter._ _

__He does his best to push the feelings of inferiority aside, telling himself that he controls his life, not some dumb mark on his body. People have plenty of genetic disorders. Maybe his was he had the wrong name on his body?_ _

__He can’t begin to imagine for a moment that he wasn’t meant to be with Jack._ _

__They soon share their first Christmas and Hanukkah together, buying each other small presents with their meager amounts of spare money. Jack buying Davey a new flannel and a couple of books he had mentioned wanting. Davey buying Jack a restock of some of his paints and a book on Albert Bierstadt, one of Jack’s favorite Western landscape artists._ _

__The holiday cheer is a bit short lived when only a few days after Christmas, Davey is hit with the cold from hell that had been making its course around the city. Davey not having been too surprised after having several coworkers go down for days with the bug._ _

__Davey doesn’t remember nearly passing out on Jack after he unsuccessfully tries to get up for work one morning. A cough wracks his body and within the hour he has himself bundled up in bed, quivering with a chill despite his body sweating profusely._ _

__He goes in and out of consciousness in the height of his fever, Jack usually at his side. He knows Jack leaves for a bit before he comes into the room and carefully pulls the warmth of the blanket away and starts to undress him._ _

__Davey furrows his brow in confusion as he blearily looks at Jack, the room feeling like it’s spinning._ _

__“Dave, babe, you’re burning up. Let me change you outta this hoodie,” Jack insists as Davey weakly whines trying to pull away._ _

__“M’fine, Jackie,” He mumbles as his body gives up and he lets Jack pull off the hoodie and help him into one of his own worn, yet soft shirts, stained with various paints._ _

__Davey is splayed out on the bed, coughing softly when Jack notices the black writing on the younger man’s arm._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything from more of Jack's point of view. Will these dumb boys ever learn how to communicate properly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback, kudos, and bookmarks!
> 
> This is it for this fic, unless someone has anything else specifically they'd like to see from this little universe? I'm open to suggestions! <3
> 
> A big thanks to @safarikalamari for reading my nonsense and encouraging my Newsies obsession.

Jack Kelly never cared much for the idea of soulmates. Watching your parents, who were still toxic and volatile despite being “soulmates” and ultimately lead each other to their ends, would make you give up on the whole idea.

He didn’t remember when the name showed up on his left hip bone. It wasn’t a part of his body he saw often, and it seemed to appear out of the blue sometime in his early teens. 

When he was finally taken in by Medda, when she gave him the new name and life that he so craved, she explained that soulmates weren’t always a guarantee and fate had a funny way of doing things. Hell, his adopted brother Charlie had no name on his body. He learned that some people didn’t have soulmates or even had two or three names on their body. 

But the perfectly scripted name on his hip bone remained.

_David_

Jack was confident he liked girls. Well, somewhat confident. At least, he told his friends that. He was a tough kid, grew up on the streets, already hardened by the cruelties of the world. 

Except, he wanted to be an artist. He loved poetry and music. And he longed more than anything to get out of the crummy city and to be surrounded by the open expanse of the West. 

His hardened facade lasted through high school, once he was free to adulthood he felt more like himself. College wasn’t an aspiration of his, but he was ready to make his art a full-time job.

He worked for Medda’s theatre and some others in the city. He was never gallery material, but he freelanced some and it gave him the ability to truly make a living doing what he loved.

Everything changed with a gangly kid with a death wish.

He had only noted the height of the man a few paces in front of him, nothing else. 

Okay, maybe he had made a note of how nice his ass looked in the jeans he was wearing, but nothing more than that.

When Jack approaches a crosswalk he slowed to wait for the light change. The man in front of him did not. 

Before he has time to think, he rushes forward and pulls the man back, his perfect ass hitting him in his hips nearly knocking him over.

That’s how Davey, the best damn thing to happen to him, comes into his life.

Davey is one of the smartest people he’s ever met. He’s the definition of book smarts, but so dreadfully street ignorant, it becomes quite endearing. He knows Davey is Jewish and close to his family, a wonderfully normal and loving family that accepts Jack with open arms.

Not to say Medda doesn’t adore the ground Davey walks on. He’s everything Jack isn’t, but he likes to think it makes them better. He makes Davey less stuffy, Davey makes him feel more focused than he’s ever been. 

He can’t help but occasionally think of the name on his hip. Davey never explicitly says his name is David, no one ever calling him the more formal name. He knows David is an incredibly popular name, having only met dozens in his nearly three decades.

Jack also knows that Davey never brings it up except for one drunken night where he resolutely declares to Jack:

“I don’t believe in soulmates. It’s a load of shit.”

He never pushes, the weight of soulmates never hangs on their shoulders and he thinks their relationship is better for it. He also never tries to hide the name on his hip, but despite many nights of less than decent encounters, he decides Davey hasn’t noticed or has chosen to ignore it.

Jack notices a couple days after Christmas that Davey has a cough which progresses to a running nose, then a headache, and it crashes to a head when Davey collapses as he tries to get out of bed. The heat radiating off Davey’s body and the coughs that follow scare the shit out of him.

Davey is is wrapped in a blanket with a thick hoodie on, the apartment a nice warm temperature despite the chill outdoors. He makes the decision to run to the pharmacy down the street explaining his symptoms to the pharmacist who recommends some cold medicine to him and urges him to get Davey cooled down so the fever doesn’t rise further.

He rushes back and finds Davey still fitfully asleep, his legs kicking weakly under the blanket and murmuring soft words every now and then. He decides to get him cooler first, tugging the blanket off and trying to gently wrangle him out of the thick hoodie.

“Dave, babe, you’re burning up. Let me change you outta this hoodie,” he tries to keep his voice soft and light, hoping he’ll relax and just let him tend to him.

“M’fine, Jackie,” Davey practically whines, Jack can’t help a soft chuckle to escape his lips.

He takes a damp washcloth and tries to clean his forehead neck and chest some, realizing he really hasn’t seen Davey too often without some sort of shirt on. He considers leaving him shirtless but it takes one moan and shiver for Jack to change him into one of his own paint splattered t-shirts.

Jack sits and runs his hand through Davey’s sweat slicked hair, gently humming in the hopes of easing him back to sleep. Davey coughs a little his arms falling to his sides, a flash of black catching Jack’s eye.

He realizes immediately that it’s Davey’s soulmark. He averts his eyes, not wanting to abuse the trust of Davey while he’s so sick. He sits in debate for a few minutes, understanding the long shirts and Davey’s little nervous tick of rubbing his arm, especially when anyone mentions soulmates.

Jack bites the inside of his lip and casually peers over, his heart initially falling when he doesn’t see an immediate J.

However, when he leans closer he gasps softly and feels his heart thrumming in his ears.

_Francis_

A name he hasn’t heard since he was a child. A name that died with his mother and a past life. A name that Medda gave him freedom from. A name he hadn’t thought of in years.

He doesn’t know if he wants to scream in jubilation or just...vomit.

He tells himself to focus on getting Davey better, then he’ll focus on this revelation.

Jack forces cold medicine onto Davey and plays nursemaid for a couple days before Davey comes back to himself and can stay awake for more than a couple minutes at a time.

“I feel disgusting,” Davey groans as he nuzzles into Jack’s thigh.

“We could take a shower?” Jack offers, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Davey scrunches his nose wanting to object, but he genuinely can’t think of a good reason and he hates how grimey he feels.

“I can take one by myself,” he huffs petulantly.

Jack laughs softly and continues combing through Davey’s hair as they half watch a National Geographic special on Bryce Canyon National Park.

“Dave, you’re accident prone when ya haven’t been laying in bed for a week fighting off the damn plague. I’m not gonna let you slip and bust y’head open, and don’t tell me it ain’t gonna happen,” Jack teases lightly.

Davey groans again and rolls over to look at Jack.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Jack smiles down at him.

“Only because I feel like an actual heap of garbage.”

Jack chuckles as he helps Davey up and to the bathroom. Davey having to admit he does still feel weak and a little lightheaded, but not letting that stop him from undressing himself as Jack gets the shower ready.

He’s been naked in front of Jack but never in the stark fluorescent lighting of the bathroom, making him suddenly self conscious; his hand clasped over his soulmark hoping it just looks more like he’s covering his midsection.

Jack smiles warmly and gently pulls him in, letting Davey under the warm steaming spray first. He washes the grime off of Davey’s body, hoping the cleanliness will help Davey feel even better.

Davey leans his head back with his eyes closed and hardly notices when Jack moves his arms and washes them, not saying a word as his washcloth goes over the soulmark.

Davey looks down quickly and searches Jack’s face for any reaction on seeing the name.

“I’m sorry,” Davey says softly, pulling his arm away.

“For what, Dave?” Jack smiles looking up at him.

Davey gently rubs the name.

“You know, I don’t believe in the soulmate thing. I didn’t want to make you feel bad or something…”

“Why would it make me feel bad?”

Davey’s hand goes to Jack’s hip, and he bites his lip.

“Because my name is on you, but I have someone else’s name on me,” he whispers softly.

Jack smiles softly and shrugs.

“Do y’love me?”

Davey nods quickly, looking with earnest and heartfelt sincerity.

“More than anything, Jack,” Davey answers.

Jack gives him a bright grin and shrugs.

“Then it don’t matter,” he laughs warmly, pulling him close and kissing the top of his wet dark hair as Davey hunches over to rest his head on Jack’s shoulder.

Davey stands under the spray just holding onto Jack. The water pours over him, making him feel refreshed from the illness, but like a weight has been truly lifted from his soul.

Jack didn’t care. He didn’t care. And he felt for the first time ever he was really the master of his own destiny.

They both finish washing and Jack helps Davey dry off and into warm clothes. He makes Davey sit on the living room couch while he changes the bedding trying his best to get rid of the last remnants of Davey’s illness.

When he finishes making the bed, Jack goes to his closest and digs through finding an old tin container. The label had worn off years ago as he moved from home to home, the metal box one of his only possessions he couldn’t bare to be separated from.

He opens the lid and rifles through. Scrap papers fill it mostly, some of his earliest drawings stored in there. He has a picture of him and his mother. Another of him, Medda, and his adoptive brother Charlie, all smiles sitting on the edge of the stage in Medda’s theatre probably just weeks after arriving in her custody. There are old report cards and other papers from his childhood. 

Jack stops when he finds the paper he’s looking for. It’s old and yellowed, torn at the corners from being handled too much. He sets it to the side before closing the lid and returning it to the safe hidden spot in the closet.

“Babe, y’can come back to bed,” Jack calls out as he sits on the edge of the bed.

Davey comes back in and sees the piece of paper in Jack’s hand.

“What’s that, Jackie?” Davey comes in, not missing the anxious look on Jack’s visage.

Jack is silent for a moment, biting at his lower lip in contemplation, the mental debate evident by the furrow of his brows.

“I wasn’t gonna tell ya this. I mean, I haven’t told a lot of people, y’know? But I don’t want to lie t’ya. So don’t be mad at me, okay?” Jack says as Davey comes to the bed sitting next to him.

Jack looks at the paper in his hand for a moment more before he hesitantly hands it to Davey.

Davey looks at him in concern before he takes the worn piece of paper and sees the words ‘Birth Certificate’ printed in a fancy yet standard print. He scans the document unsure of what he’s looking for until he sees it. The name. 

Francis Jackson Sullivan II.

Next he looks at the the birth date. November 22, 1990. Jack’s birthday.

He looks up at Jack and back at the birth certificate.

“I-I don’t understand,” he shakes his head, gripping the paper.

Jack nervously rubs the back of his neck and sighs softly.

“My ma died when I was only four or five. My dad wound up in prison not long after, not that he was a good dad or nothin’. My ma always called me Jack growin’ up, I wasn’t much of a Francis, she’d say,” he nervously laughs, “My dad wasn’t a great guy, so when I was put in foster care they let me use ma’s maiden name, Kelly. Medda helped me get a new birth certificate and everything, I’m legally Jack Kelly...but, I was born Francis Sullivan.”

Davey feels his hands tremble as he holds the paper while Jack speaks. He stays silent when he finishes, trying to process it all.

“Davey, please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to lie to you…” 

Jack is surprised when Davey bust out in a laughing sob.

“Oh my God,” he shudders out, tears falling. “Do you know how many years I thought you were an old man in a nursing home? Or some socially awkward nerd with a pocket protector?” He laughs through the tears.

“T’be fair, Dave, you are that socially awkward nerd,” Jack lightly teases, causing Davey to push his shoulder before the realization hits him fully.

Jack is his soulmate. 

Something he ran from and avoided his whole life snuck up on him without him knowing or trying. 

He falls into full tears as Jack pulls him in for a close hug. He tells Jack days later it was all of the cough medicine that made him so emotional. Jack knows Davey better than that.

“I’d kiss ya, but I don’t want no plague,” Jack whispers softly after a few minutes and Davey’s tears have somewhat ceased.

Davey lets out a soft snort, as he wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“I think if you were going to catch this, you already would have,” his voice is shaky and soft, but he can’t help but hold onto Jack like everything in the world depended on it.

Jack grins lifting up his chin and kissing him warmly.

“Our wills and fates do so contrary run, that our devices still are overthrown; our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own,” Jack hums softly in a bad British accent.

Davey gasps softly and beams at him.

“Are you quoting Hamlet to me?” 

“What can I say, y’rubbin’ off on me?” Jack kisses him again, “Just don’t go tellin’ Spot or any of the other fellas.”

Davey leans into the kiss, cupping his lightly stubbled jaw, his thumb rubbing over the small scar on his chin.

After that night, Davey never feels ashamed over the name on his arm, wanting to show the world as a badge of honor. That he was gifted by the fates with the most amazing and incredible man.

Maybe he believed in soulmates. He now firmly believed you could do your best to run from fate, you could forsake it and hate it and deny every bit of it. In the end, fate was inevitable and maybe that wasn’t always a terrible thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr @deanogarbage or my Newsies blog @walkin-mouth

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr on my main blog @deanogarbage or my newsies blog @walkin-mouth >3<


End file.
